For Five Nights Only
by Mitchimich
Summary: You are currently unemployed. Almost all jobs seem to be taken by service robots. However you find an ad in the paper. Work at Fazbear's Circus. And they only need you for Five Nights only. (Futuristic AU FNaF)
1. Fortunate opportunity

You wander along the crowded street in your long, tattered coat with your hands buried deep in your pockets and scarf wrapped around your neck several times in an attempt to keep the chilling air from biting at your skin. It is the beginning of Autumn and the weather doesn't quite seem to settle on being cold or warm from one day to the next. Along the street are numerous beggars with signs pleading desperately for help and for spare change. In your heart you feel that you should spare something. However you are barely able to afford to live yourself and-in this instance-you decide to be selfish and force your eyes to look past them and ignore their existence.

Soon, you come to the local shop and pull your scarf slightly down in order to avoid the sudden warmth of the place overwhelming you. A few people turn to look at you as you enter briefly before turning back to their papers or items. One woman nods at you knowingly, as you both seem to have met several times in this very place for the last three months, and hands you a paper with jobs listed on the page. You give her a brief, tired smile of thanks and turn your eyes to intensely study the jobs list and make a red mark around the ones you might have a slim chance of being hired at. The majority of them wouldn't start until a month later. You make a noise of irritation. You needed money now!

Then it catches your eye: Wanted! General Assistant for Circus. Required for 5 nights only. No previous experience or qualifications needed. No age limit. To start ASAP. $120.

Your eyes blink in disbelief. That amount would maybe buy some food for a few days. That was better than nothing. "Have you seen this?" You ask the woman, pointing to the job, "Why don't you try for it too?"  
>She returns a small laugh. "I don't think so. There's only me to look after my kids. I couldn't imagine being away from them for so long…and I don't entirely trust my neighbours to look after them." You look at her forty year old face and ponder the number of jobs she had previously done. Her scuffed and patched business suit suggested that she might have been a manager or maybe a high paid position. You also note the absence of her saying that a circus was below her. No one would say that these days.<p>

Taking the paper to the counter to purchase it you glare at the thing behind the counter. A blank humanoid computer gives the usual "Hello there, good day. Thank you for shopping with us today." As it scans the barcode of the paper before indicating to the card reader with its jerky movements. You do as you are asked whilst angrily throwing profanities at it in your head. These things are the reason that nobody had a job these days. Companies were more interested in having an employee that never rested, never got sick and you never had to pay. They never considered how much it would damage other people's livelihoods and the government were slow to react to the rapidly growing unemployment rate.

As soon as the card is processed, you turn on your heel and leave before the robot even voices the "Thank you for your purchase" farewell.

Racing along the street with the paper in your hand, you find an empty bench and spread out the paper. After a quick check around, you pull out your phone and start the QR reader to apply to the other jobs that promised at least six months of work before looking back to the circus ad. Oddly, it does not hold a QR code like most job ads these days-only a telephone number. Hesitantly, you tap the numbers into your phone and press it to your ear. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Right at the moment where you start to consider hanging up a deep voice speaks at the other end. It startles you slightly-hearing a person and not an automated voice.

"Hello? You've reached Fazbear's Circus," It asks.

"Uh-H-Hi," You reply, nervously, "I'm in-interested in applying for your General…Assistant p-position."

"Why certainly do! We'd sure appreciate the help," The voice replies, sounding friendly, "I'll need your name first and then I can give you the address so you can head on over and start."  
>"Sure-um, do you mean today?"<p>

"Of course, we're here for five nights and really need you for today-tomorrow at the latest."

"Oh, okay. I'll be on my way to get my things to stay for the week and shall be there as soon as I can."

"One more thing before you come over-you're not allowed to bring your mobiles, tablets or other communication devices with you."

This catches you by surprise. Everywhere allowed technology because it was already everywhere. "Why is that?" You ask suspiciously.

"Well we have some animatronics in the circus…if you bring a phone or whatever it might mess with their own wireless communication and ruin the show and make them act up." Replies the voice. "You wouldn't want to spoil the show for everyone, would you?"  
>"No, I guess not. That's fine. I'll make sure I leave everything at home." You agree reluctantly, wondering how on earth you'd survive that long without having information immediately at your fingertips.<p>

"Splendid. Let me give you the address."

You give the man your name, your home address, the usual stuff necessary for applying for a job before stating that you'd be a couple of hours (the address was for somewhere that was out of town and you didn't own a car) before heading home.

Arriving back, you tell your parents that you're heading out to start a job tonight (you'd have no hope of affording to live on your own and this is the best you can do right now). Obviously, they are shocked and concerned-your mother especially since you're not allowed to take your phone-but eventually agree that it is better to have some money than nothing at all. Not to mention this is the first job you'll have had for a while.

The sky was beginning to darken as you set out with a full suit case and lots of hugs and kisses from your parents. Your father walks with you to the bus stop and makes you promise that you'd write once you got there before you climbed on board the robot-driven bus. You have no idea why the robots have to have a human-like face. It made them creepier somehow.

Houses, streets and cars whizz by as you absently stare out the window. It would take a while to reach your destination. A brief moment of panic sets into you as you question who on earth this Fazbear guy was. For all you know he could be a murderer or something. Well you did leave the address with your parents so they could come find you if you did not return. The thought makes you shudder and you push it out of your mind. You continue to look blankly out for what seems like hours when a sudden brightness catches your eyes and there, before you, is a bright sign that reads "Fazbear's Circus". You press hard for the bus to stop. Dragging your luggage off the bus, you head underneath the sign and approach the huge big top tent surrounded by smaller, white ones and decorated trailers. The path is dimly lit by lanterns and the mud makes it a pain to pull the suitcase until you give in and begin to carry it.

"Oh hello there!" A familiar deep voice calls and a rather large man approaches. He's tall, with a slightly rounded tummy and pale face, dark brown handlebar moustache, brown coattail jacket accompanied with black and a top hat that oddly sported brown bear ears. He shakes your hand with a smile. "You must be…uh…"  
>You remind him as nicely as you can of your name. 'The least he could do was remember it after hauling my ass this far out of town,' You think with an over compensating smile.<p>

"I'm Frederick-the owner and Ringmaster here. Come, come, you can let me take your luggage to your tent. Then we'll go meet the rest of the gang." He says, taking your case from your hands and you follow uncertainly behind.

As the both of you walk, you take a look around, trying to remember landmarks that would help you find your way around in case you got lost. Then another thing catches your attention instead. There are no people around. The place is like a ghost town.

"Hey is everyone in bed already?" You ask, checking your watch. "It's only 8 O'Clock."

"Hm? Oh, nah, we're just a very small group you see," Frederick explained, "We had too many people coming and going so we ended up giving in and getting a few mechanical performers." He notices you wince. "Yeah I know…in today's society it seems like a cop out but you can only have so many people leave. The acts near died out because of it. Me and my remaining members are the only ones left. We only sought for a human assistant because it's easier than programming a robot to do multiple tasks like you'll be doing. Not to mention no wheels could run on this ground."

As you round a corner, you pause as something caught your attention momentarily. You could have sworn than there was someone stood in the shadows. You look again a chill runs through you as you realise that it's not just your mind playing tricks. A tall thin man was stood there motionless. You could barely make out any of his features but you think you can spot a hook glinting ever so slightly at the end of his right arm. Flinching, you turn and run-only to barge into Frederick-bouncing slightly off his chubby belly.

"Keep up, kid," He says with a sigh as his perfume hits your nose and almost makes you retch with the horrid scent, "You'll get lost if you don't pay attention."

"S-Sorry. I just saw someone in the shadows." You say and point feebly.

Frederick gives you a disbelieving glance before peering over at the shadow. After a few moments, he frowns, mouth hanging open slightly before he shouts loudly. "Hey, knock it off, you're scaring the newbie!"

A thin, pale man shuffles out of the shadows and glares over at Frederick with an irritated look. He mumbles something that you can't hear before looking down at you with hollow yellow eyes. Even from this distance he seems freakishly tall and chilling. A ragged ginger beard with dark brown stains covered the lower half of his face, hair divided by a long scar that ran over his right eye down to his cheek. His hair was a wild, half-matted mess which seemed as though it hadn't seen a comb nor scissors for several years. Nearly everything about this man seemed to be scarred, scratched or torn. As you peered down at his right arm, you notice that you were correct; he did indeed have a hook-and where his tattered linen trousers ended were two metallic legs. You frown slightly at the sight of it. Was he a robot? With a couple of odd twitches, the man muttered something again and moved to disappear behind the tents.

With a heavy sigh, the ring master apologises, "Sorry about him. He's pretty odd…uh, just make sure you're never alone with him. Not quite right in the head that guy."

You follow on with a concerned look, occasionally glancing over your shoulder in case he was still lingering behind. "Your first job can be to cook for the rest of the gang. There's only four of us, five now including yourself," The chubby man in front of you explained, scratching at his moustache slightly, "Lucky for you since it won't be too much to cook. The kitchen and food supplies are in the trailer with the yellow chicken holding the cupcake. Just take out whatever you can cook well enough-we're not too picky about what we eat. Then obviously you have to clean all that up and then pretty much that's it for your first night. You'll start real work tomorrow."

All you manage to do is nod your head as you stumble over guy-ropes and unseen stones on the ground.

"Here we are!" Frederick says cheerily, unzipping the tent door and placing your muddied suitcase just inside it, "I'll just let you have a few minutes to familiarise yourself with your home for the next few days before you get to work." As he turns to leave, the ringmaster pauses with an "Ah."

"Just so you're well aware," He says turning back to you, "We have a strict curfew of 11pm around here. No getting up before 6am."

"Uh…why?" You ask uncertainly.

"We're performers and have to get enough rest to do our jobs. Have you ever tried to breathe fire or do mid-air acrobatics while half tired? Just one mistake could cost someone their life." The man says with a serious face. "But, for now, just get to work as soon as you can."


	2. First Night

The ring master leaves you to unpack. Momentarily you lie down on the sagging bed and take a deep breath, slowly realising how immediately bored you are. Instinctively you reach for your phone only to realise it was left at home-as Frederick ordered. It seems odd and almost terrifying as this is probably the first time in your life where you have been completely and utterly cut off from the world. No Tweets. No Youtube videos. Not even Facebook. 'I could probably do without that for a while anyway,' You think with a sigh before listening to the wind flapping your tent outside. A chill seems to come over you at the sound and you move to open your suitcase and fish out your dark blue jumper. 'It'll probably get chilly later.' You think as you wriggle it on. A pad of blank paper and a few pens fall out of the inner pocket and you remember promising your parents to write as soon as you arrived. "I'll do it later…" You say lazily, shoving your suitcase to one corner without zipping it up and leaving your tent.

The growing dark makes it difficult for you to even spot the food store trailer. Not to mention that it felt like someone was behind you every step of the way. With that weird man watching from the shadows before, you weren't sure if he was still doing so.

Eventually (quite by accident) the trailer comes into sight and you rush to it to gain some kind of shelter from that creeping sense of someone stalking you. Slamming the door loudly behind, you release a breath of relief to have not met any other weirdos that may reside in this circus. Only certain crunching sounds alert you to the fact that you are not alone. Your eyes widen and body stiffens and flattens against the wall at this realisation. Blindly, you grope the wall for a light switch. After a few more moments, your fingers find something resembling one and pull it down. A few seconds of darkness pass before a feeble bulb blinks into life, casting a dim light for the entire trailer and you detach yourself from the wall. The crunching and clanking of pots continues without pause. You dare a few tentative steps. The noise continues still. Feeling braver, your feet attempt a creeping step and you hope that it is just a rat or some other small animal that would provide no real threat. Approaching the counter, a small tuft of bright blonde hair is visible. At least it wasn't the man from earlier. "E-Excuse me!" You attempt to sound confident.

The person freezes and looks up at your voice. Their eyes seem to be the cutest, most innocent blue eyes you have ever seen and peer nervously over the counter. They have long, dark eyelashes that blink slowly in surprise.

"You shouldn't be in here." You say, attempting a firmer voice.

With the air of a guilty child, the person stands. You see that it is a young girl with short, bobbed hair (though a part stuck up at the back) with a freckled face that only seemed to add to her overall cuteness. She has a light yellow dress with puffed sleeves and a bouffant skirt. Evidence of the food she had eaten already stuck to her face in an endearing way. She didn't look much older than 17. "I sorry," She mumbles in broken English, "I hungry and no food yet. So…so I eat from here."

"Yeah, I was just coming to start cooking and I'm running late. Could you show me where the food for cooking is and help me to get things running?" You ask, looking around for the food store, thinking about making some kind of rice dish if the ingredients were available. "I'm guessing that you work here, right?"

The cute girl gives a bright smile, "Of course Chica works at Circus. Chica is fire eater."

You raise an eyebrow. Of all the roles in a circus, you didn't imagine her eating fire.

"Let's go to work!" She exclaims with a smile, and begins to pull out pots and pans ready for cooking before you ask for her to locate the rice, vegetables, spices and meat. Working with Chica is surprisingly easy, she is chatty and cheerful with a charming eastern European accent. She describes in detail about her set, her costume and the places she has visited since starting at the circus.

"Chica has been in lot of countries," She says as she pours the curried vegetables and meat into a large bowl, scraping out the last of the sauce, "People always amazed to see tiny girl breathe fire like dragon."

"When did you start working here?" You ask conversationally as you pour the rice into a large serving bowl and the smile momentarily drops from her face.

After a few moments she regains her smile and beams, "Oh it such a long time ago, I can't remember!"

With that she sweeps from the room out to the front of the trailer with the food bowl, ending the conversation. You stare with a confused expression after her, wondering if you'd offended her somehow, and follow her outside with your own bowl in hand. You find yourself in a small quad, covered by a tarpaulin to prevent everyone getting soaked in rainfall, with a couple of rickety plain picnic benches. A long table with numerous spoons, forks and knives (Chica had got them out earlier) sat next to plates and the pot of food. Placing the rice alongside, you look at the others sat at the benches. A dark skinned woman with vibrant purple hair and make up to match sat glaring at you with her head resting on her hand in boredom. On top of her head sat a pair of equally purple rabbit ears, which made her seem like a playboy bunny more than a circus performer, given her outfit. It was a black skin tight leotard with a red bow tie in the middle of it and fishnet tights wrapped around her legs. She also wore white cuffs at her wrist (which seemed a little pointless since they didn't attach to anything on her outfit) with red cufflinks.

"About damn time you got food served up," She huffed, standing up and stomping over to the plates and cutlery, "What took you so long?"

"Newbie was lost and didn't know anything so Chica helped." The younger girl chimed in with a smile before you could say anything. "Be nice to them Bunny."

"For the thousandth time, my name is Bonnie!" The other woman snapped back, spooning a large portion of rice and curry onto her plate.

"Then why do you look like bunny?" Chica asked sarcastically, flipping a piece of her blonde hair from her face.

Grumbling under her breath, Bonnie moves away with a scowl and places the plate down roughly on the table before she begins to eat her food. Chica grabs her own plate and food and sits opposite Bonnie. The two seem to share a relationship similar to siblings from viewing the way that Chica openly teased Bonnie.

You notice someone stood just in your peripheral vision and look up with a smile to hand them a plate. A shudder comes over as you see who it is. The wild-haired, hook handed man from earlier. He's now gained an eye patch to cover his right eye and now he's closer you can see more details of his face. There are more scars than the large vivid one on his right eye that seem to cluster in twos or threes all over the visible skin you can see. His mouth is open slightly, you can feel his breath on your face as well as see his sharp teeth. Your body stiffens as you wonder what on earth is wrong with this man. "Can I be getting some o' yer grub?"

You blink in confusion. Was this guy speaking like a pirate? "Uh…Ar?" You say uncertainly, giving him a plate and letting him help himself to the food.

Behind, Bonnie is making a "crazy" sign at you while Chica looks on with a slightly saddened expression.

"This will be just fine fer a servin' o' hot food." The man says with an attempt at a smile with his misaligned jaw before moving over to the second table and tucking himself at the back of the table, away from everyone else. You mouth 'Who is he?' to Bonnie and she mimes that she'll tell you later.

The final member to come is Frederick, his large belly appearing in the tent just before he did. Though his deep laugh seemed to precede him by a couple of minutes. "Ah good, are we all fed and watered?" The ring master asks, helping himself to his own plate and large serving of food. It was much larger than anyone else's.

"Yeah, the newbie did good," Bonnie said, still eating her own food.

"Chica helped!" The other girl announced with a bright smile.

"Aye, ye found a fine whelp te cook in the galley, Freddy." Came the odd pirate accent from the partially shadowed man.

"That's a compliment from Foxy, probably the nicest thing he's ever said about new staff," Frederick whispered to you before taking his seat by Bonnie. The bench seemed to tilt to his weight as he sat. Getting your own food, you choose to sit by Chica, feeling a little sorry for Foxy but still feeling cautious about him too. Chica seemed about the only one you seem to be able to trust.

The group eats mostly in silence, except for the loud chewing coming from Foxy and Frederick. After several minutes, the weird man stands up and climbs from the bench to leave without a word. Several lumps of half-chewed meat and vegetables remained on his plate (and some even across the table). "Get some rest, Foxy," The chubby man calls after him, food spraying out of his mouth and hitting Chica as he talked. Foxy did not respond at all.

"Foxy?" You ask, feeling a little confused (wondering if it was some sort of nickname).

"No one knows his actual name," Bonnie explains with a wave of her hand, "I doubt even he knows. He's so messed up."

"So the pirate thing…?"

"He's had injuries over the years, they've had a…lasting effect," explained Frederick, "Several animals have taken him down and given him a good chew. I think that the last incident was…"

"When Leo hit Mr. Foxy!" Chica said with a slight sadness, "Leo broke his jaw and Mr. Foxy was dizzy."

"He was screwed up even before then." Bonnie stated without sympathy with her mouth full of food.

Bonnie's statement silenced everyone else and you had to agree that she was probably right. Everyone resumed eating in a low mood. Despite being the last to arrive, Freddy finished before everyone else. You had to question whether he'd actually eaten the food or inhaled it. "You're definitely a keeper," He said, patting his stomach and gesturing to you with a wink. "Keep it up, newbie."

You give him a smile, still annoyed that he seems to be unable to recall your name but also the fact that you seem to have picked up a new nickname.

Bonnie and Chica share a giggle at your surpressed annoyance as the ringmaster leaves. "Now it's official…you're Newbie." The rabbit-girl gives a wry smile. "You're gonna be Newbie for the rest of the time you're with us."

You scowl back at her with good humour.

"You looking forward to show tomorrow, Newbie?" Chica asks almost excitedly.

You nod slightly.

"You can help Chica get ready!" She adds before finishing off her food and giving you a big hug. "Night Newbie! Night Bonnie" With that the girl disappears out of the quad, presumably to head back to her tent. Bonnie merely waves her fork slightly.

"Good night," You call after Chica before turning back to Bonnie, "What do you do in this place?"

Bonnie swallows the last of her food. "Now, at least let a lady keep some of her secrets. You'll find out tomorrow anyway. Come to the big top at eight and you can help me get ready too."

Her saying that makes you check your watch. "It's 10! I'd better get cleaned up." You rush to pick up the dirtied plates, feebly trying to pick up Foxy's half-chewed leftovers from the table with disgust, before waving bye to Bonnie. Now alone, you feel a little bit better. The circus members were certainly interesting characters and now you're a little less nervous. They weren't the psychos you expected. Well, except Foxy. But even Freddy said that he seemed to like you.

"I still wouldn't trust him," You mutter aloud to yourself as you run the tap for the sink and scrape off the remaining food.

It's well past 11 by the time you'd cleaned the tables, wiped the counters and placed everything away. 'So long as I don't make any noise no one will notice.' You think, almost immediately tripping over a raised stone and making a startled "Ah!".

In the darkness, it's near impossible to navigate the tents and there are no landmarks visible except for the big top. 'Tomorrow I'll tie a ribbon onto my tent…' You think, continuing to stumble and trip. Smothering a yawn, you hear a twig snapping behind you. With a jump you turn to look back. Squinting into the darkness for any movement you see nothing and cautiously carry on walking. Then whispers seem to come from nowhere. They were spoke so quickly and quietly that it was impossible to hear what was said. You look again as your heart begins to pound in your chest slightly. Trying to swallow, you move on. Footsteps this time. There is no point in trying to walk anymore-you have to get back to your tent before someone finds you. Breaking into a run you zigzag among the tents, only turning with some certainty when you spot what you think is your tent.

Ripping the zip up, you step inside and pull it down as swiftly as possible. Taking a few steps backwards you notice that your heart is banging against your ribcage. Feeling like a scared five year old, you don't bother undressing and dive onto the bed, grabbing the covers and pulling them tight around you. Your eyes peer fearfully at the shadows outside your tent, hoping that whatever was following you doesn't know where you are.

Only the sound of tents flapping in the rising wind make a noise. Slowly, you begin to calm down. Closing your eyes momentarily you feel grateful to be in somewhere warm and safe at last.

Then the sound of whirring and footsteps makes them snap open with a jolt. There, outside the tent, is the shadow of someone tall and thin. Your eyes widen with fear. You can hear every breath they take. The person gives a couple of jerks with their head and arms. They mumble jibberish and whisper things that you're only glad you can't hear. Their arm seems to spasm and you see the vague shadow of a hook. It's him again!

Frozen to the spot, you daren't move. You don't entirely trust Foxy to listen to you and go away. All you can do is hope he leaves by himself. You hear more whirring and whispers though you're not quite sure who is making them as Foxy does not move. It seems like a long time before your eyes begin to droop slightly despite Foxy still being out there.

They droop once more and suddenly something startles you awake. Only a bright light blinds you once you open your eyes. Cringing, you realise that it's morning. You stare in disbelief. Surely this must be a dream. Checking your watch, you realise it is half past six in the morning. At least you're still alive.


	3. Fatigued and Friendship making

After getting changed from your sweat stained clothes, you groggily make your way to the kitchen trailer to begin cooking. You're glad that you meet no one else. They'd not get an overly warm greeting.

Letting yourself into the trailer, you roughly grab the pans and foods to begin cooking. Over and over in your mind you think about the shadowy figure that was outside the tent last night. There was no mistaking that lanky figure of Foxy. Or the breathing coming from his constantly open mouth. The prickling sensation of goosebumps crawls across your skin. You can almost hear the mumbles coming from him as though he was stood right before you. Your arms wrap around yourself tightly. You see his jerking, twitching movements like a malfunctioning robot. With a loud noise of disgust your hands flail outwards, trying to push the thoughts away, and knock the pan of bacon onto the floor.

Blinking in supressed anger, you stare at the running oil and still sizzling bacon before stomping over to pick up what you could without burning your hands and dumping it in the bin. Shortly, you have another pan of bacon cooking and scowl at the cooking meat. Today may not be a good day.

The hash browns and beans were slightly burnt as you scraped them into the serving bowls but you didn't care. Shoving in a serving spoon you grab the plates to carry them outside to the dining quad. No one was there yet. You were glad for it. By the time you returned with the hash browns and beans Bonnie was walking in as she stifled a wide yawn. "G'Morning…" She said sleepily. All she got in reply was a grumpy grunt as you turned back into the kitchen to get the eggs, bacon and pancakes.

You briefly caught the slightly offended look from her before the door swung to close behind you. When you returned, Bonnie was sat staring at you with a teasing smile. "What's up with you Newbie? Get out on the wrong side of the bed?" She asked.

"Ha. Funny." You reply sarcastically, setting down the foods roughly.

"Are you getting cutlery? Or are we meant to eat with our faces like animals?" Bonnie questioned, equally sarcastically.

Scowling at her you spin around to grab the cutlery from the kitchen and throw them unceremoniously onto the table, keeping two for yourself and grabbing your own plate of food.

Bonnie gets herself breakfast too, no longer attempting to poke fun at you, and sits opposite. She eyes you through pink contact lenses with confusion. She says nothing, waiting for you to begin speaking. You're not particularly in a sharing mood. The pair of you eat in a dull silence.

Chica wanders in when you're halfway through your meal. She doesn't seem to be in a good mood either. In fact she seems almost terrifying. There are dark circles under her downcast eyes and she walks almost like a zombie. At this you feel concerned and almost call out to her to see if she's okay. 'Maybe Foxy was outside her tent too…' You think, but Bonnie places her hand over your mouth to stop. She shakes her head and opens her eyes slightly in warning. "Not a good time." She mouths, glances at Chica and resumes eating.

Confused, you look at Bonnie, then over at Chica's shambling movements before eating again. If you hadn't met her yesterday you wouldn't believe that this person was capable of smiling.

With some food in your belly, you feel a little less grouchy and ask Bonnie quietly, "Didn't you say you needed me for something at 8?"

The purple-haired woman nods as she chews. "Yeah. I'll need you for setting up my act. Gotta check everything is safe."

"Mhm…will do."

"I not feel so good…" The younger girl finally speaks with a pathetic voice.

Bonnie nods at you to signal that it is safe to speak to her now. "What's the matter, Chica?" You ask with sympathy.

"Not sleep good. Nightmares. Sleepwalk again. I woke up in security office."

"Security office?"

"Yes." Chica responds shortly, picking at her food.

"We have a few cameras set up around here to monitor things. Thieves have come by before and stolen some of our stuff. We didn't want that happening again." Bonnie explains more.

"I see…" You say as you begin pondering if the footage from them would show Foxy standing outside your tent all night to confirm your suspicions.

"Good morning everyone!" Frederick booms as he enters the quad with a huge smile on his face, moustache seeming especially preened and top hat decorated with a sparkling black ribbon to match his bow tie. "Are we ready to entertain the masses and wow everyone with our performances?"

"Yeah…" Came a less than excited response from Chica and Bonnie.

"I can't hear you!" He encourages them to speak louder.

"Yeaaahhh." All three of you say, still sounding apathetic but slightly louder.

Frederick chuckles and makes his way over to the food (piling it up high again-there was barely any left for Foxy). "How are you today, Newbie? Sleep well?" The Ringmasters inquires, coming to join you all at the table-again his weight making the entire thing shift towards him.

"Eh…not great. Foxy was stood outside my tent all night. It was weird. He just wouldn't budge and he kept…whispering and twitching." You look at Frederick with a furrowed brow.

Frederick seemed to not respond like you thought he would. "Yeah, Foxy does do that. He tends to sleep walk. And sleep talk. I wouldn't worry about it."

"But he was literally there all night!" You press.

"Even with his artificial legs do you really think an old guy like Foxy could stand up all night? You must have dreamed it, Newbie." He shrugged and waved a dismissive hand.

For a second, you open your mouth to argue with him before clamping it shut again. Throwing around accusations against a longstanding member of the team could result in you losing your paycheck. You finish the rest of your breakfast while the others talk about the shows they were going to carry out today.

"So our first one is at 10, second at 1 and last one at 6 in the evening. Same as yesterday." Frederick explained as the other two listened and nodded their heads. "It should be easier today with Newbie on board now so just use them as needed."

"Newbie's setting up with me and checking the wires." Bonnie chipped in. "And helping Chica get ready later too.

The ring master nods in approval. "Good, oh and call by my changing room and I'll give you the instructions for the pyrotechnics."

"The what?" You ask, confused.

"Fireworks in other words. Don't worry it's literally just waiting for the cues and button pressing since we're using a computer system for them now. The last guy-uh-had an accident and we couldn't really find anyone to replace him on such short notice that would travel."

"Alright-I'd better get everything cleaned before I head over to help everyone." You tell Frederick, rising from the table and heading towards the remaining food. "I'll leave this out in case Foxy"- You didn't even want to say his name he creeped you out so much- "Is ready for breakfast. Though it'll be cold."

It takes you at least an hour to get everything cleaned for the next mealtime , though you're sure it was quicker this time. You race back to your tent. Once inside you find that spare piece of ribbon that your parents always tied around the handles of the suitcase. It's odd how such a simple object can instil a feeling of home sickness. Picking up the notebook and pen, you sit down on the bed (ribbon wrapped around your hand now). You begin writing:

'Dear Mum and Dad,

I hope you are doing well. I arrived at Fazbear's Circus late yesterday evening and was greeted by the man himself. My tent is small and is livable and all I have to do is make food and generally help out. There's only four others to work with; Fazbear, Bonnie, Chica & Foxy. Chica was the first of the team who really helped me out and I really like her. She's definitely not a morning person. Apparently this morning she woke up in the security office after-"

You stop writing. The security office. Where was it?

You leave the half written letter on the bed and stand by the door to look for it. Looking left and right, there are only more blank tents as far as the eye can see. An odd realisation comes to you. So many tents for five people? "Something isn't right…" You murmur quietly, fiddling with the ribbon.

"Hey, Newbie!" came a voice that makes you jump.

Spinning around, the face of the pretty, pink-eyed Bonnie comes into view. "Oh, hey," You say, trying to mask your surprise.

"I'm on my way to start my checks," She explained, gesturing to the big top, "I thought I'd come by on the way. You ready?"

"Uh, yeah. I just got some ribbons so I can find my tent later. Last night I almost didn't find it," You reply, fumbling to hastily tie the ribbon around the guy ropes.

"Good idea," Compliments Bonnie before she made a noise of interest. "You doing some writing? Almost no one does it by hand anymore these days."

"Well, I wasn't allowed any electronics and I promised my parents I'd tell them when I got here and tell them that I'm not going to die." You sigh with a nervous laugh.

Bonnie doesn't seem to laugh in return. She only stares before your laughter dies itself.

"Let's get moving," She jerks her head in the direction of the huge tent again, "The sooner we get this done, the sooner Chica can get you to help her get ready-and you may not escape _her_ for a long time. You know how she likes to talk."

You chuckle loudly.

Bonnie leads the way to the big top, turning sharply between the labyrinth of tents. She's so quick and sudden with her movements that you almost have to run to keep up. A couple of time she almost disappears completely. One time you have to dance around an exhausted looking Foxy. For a brief moment you look back at him to make sure he doesn't follow you. You're not entirely sure if he even registered the pair of you passing. His yellow eyes seem to look at the ground but they're unfocused and his long, scarred body just seems to slope forwards with his arms hanging by his sides. 'Good, the creep deserves it after hanging outside my tent all night.' You think maliciously, yet you notice again that he's not moving at all. It is almost like he's a clockwork that has run out of wind. Though weirdly, Bonnie didn't seem to acknowledge him being there at all.

Turning your attention back to Bonnie, you just see her turn a corner. Racing to catch up with her, you find yourself right beside the big top where Bonnie is waiting for you. "Sheesh keep up," She snorts, hand on her hip before she turns with a flick of her hair to enter the thin gap of the big top. Following her through, you see a dimly lit area that was mostly sectioned off into four different rooms separated by thick, glittery velvet curtains with a starry pattern. You notice that one seems larger than the others. It is labelled with a wooden sign that reads "Freddy Fazbear" with two adorable bear ears on the F's.

Next to it is a much smaller room with a "Chica" sign above it with a little chicken painted on it. Looking across to the other rooms is Bonnie and Foxy's, both equal in size and labelled with their names. Bonnie's has a small purple bunny on it and Foxy's has a fox guarding a treasure box with a skull on it. Rather disturbingly Foxy's looks slightly chewed and splintered. There is a paper sign stuck under it with sticky tape that reads "Out of Order" scribbled on. You're not sure if it is genuinely out of order or someone's cruel joke.

Bonnie is still walking ahead of you, heading to the main stage, and you jog to catch up. Passing through a narrow tunnel, it opens up to the huge main stage. As is usual with circuses, there is a large centre ring surrounded by rows upon rows of benches. A thick, sturdy main pole that stretches up high to hold the tent aloft stands in the exact centre of it. You pause for a moment to turn slowly, taking it all in before heading over to Bonnie. "What do you need me to do?" You ask.

The woman flicks her purple hair again and pats one of the support structures. "Turn the crank at the same pace as me." She replies with a smile, sashaying over to the far side of the circle opposite.

"1…2…3, Crank!" She calls and turns the winch. Snapping yourself out of watching her, you grab the crank and turn in time with her. Slowly from the sand of the circle rises a tight rope wire that was partially hidden. You smile as you realise the woman's talent. There is a loud clatter of metal that announces the ascension of the thin, rickety ladders that meet the platform where Bonnie would start her act. "Snap it in place, Newbie!" Bonnie orders, pointing to a thick sturdy clasp (you find yours in exactly the same place) and she gives the winch a slight jiggle to ensure it is secure.

"Next crank." She shouts, pointing to another large one underneath the first. As you both turn, thick poled trapezes slide from under the platform and turn sharply to take place opposite each other along two parallel metal beams. Without being told you immediately ensure it is firmly locked in place before meeting Bonnie in the middle. "I'm looking forward to seeing your performance," You admit to her, "I've never seen a tightrope walker or a trapeze artist in person before. You're brave for doing it-I doubt I could."

"Eh, you get used to it," She replied nonchalantly, "I've been doing it for years."

"How long?" You press, attempting to figure out how long this place has been going.

"Ehh…Since about '87, I think. I'm one of the original members. I used to just play guitar originally and…" Bonnie stops and presses a hand to her forehead, scrunching up her eyes in pain with a slight sway of her body.

"You okay?" You can hear the worry in your voice.

"Hm? Oh yeah. Sorry. That happens sometimes. My brain makes up memories that I've never experienced." You stare at her, willing her to go on. "I uh…I had a bad accident a few years ago and my head and hands got damaged." Anxiously, she moved the cuffs aside to show metal joints where her wrist should have been. "It was a car accident. I was driving too recklessly on a wet night. I'd had an argument and broken up with my boyfriend and didn't wear my seatbelt. I lost control of the car and hit a tree.'

'My head got hit first and I tried to stop myself going through the wind screen with my hands which was a big mistake. The impact of touching the glass and eventually the tree destroyed my wrists and I ended up with a lot of glass in my skull which then worked its way into my brain." She pulled the cuffs back across and looked sheepish. "The doctors managed to save me-it's amazing how much they can rebuild these days. They used recycled robot parts to repair the areas of damage to my brain and wrists apparently, which I don't mind too much, at least these parts can still be used. It made the operations cheaper. The Doctor told me that some of these episodes I have are just side effects from the operation and damage to my brain. They can make me live and I'm just grateful for that."

You're not quite sure how to react to this situation. A story like that certainly wasn't what you were expecting. "I'm so sorry that you went through that," You say quietly, "But the fact that you're still here and doing acts is pretty amazing."

"Thanks." Bonnie replies with a genuine smile.

She looks as though she wants to say something else but there came a loud call of "Newbie!" in a sing song way that resounded around the tent. Turning, you see Chica hurrying towards you. "You helped Bonnie, yes?"

Before you've barely said "Y-" Chica has grabbed your hand and leads you towards the backstage.

"Time to help Chica get ready," She singsongs as you momentarily turn to wave goodbye to Bonnie who gives a "Good luck with that" wave in return.


	4. Facing Foes

Chica pulls you into her dressing room with the same enthusiasm as a child showing off a new toy. "This is where magic happens!" She exclaims happily, barely able to stretch both her arms out in the cramped room.

A large wardrobe that had definitely seen better days stood in the far left, covered with cupcake stickers and glow in the dark stars, and this is what took up most of the already limited space. A thing dressing table also took up space and was pressed against the adjoining wall. It was dominated by a large, round vanity mirror that was surrounded by various make up items-some you didn't even know what they were used for. "Huh, it sure is cosy," You comment a little sarcastically.

"Chica I youngest and last to join," She shrugs, "Maybe Mr. Fazbear will get me more space if I work hard enough."

Almost immediately after she's finished speaking she starts removing her clothes. "Wha-hey?!" You say and cover your eyes in embarrassment.

"Come, you grown up," Chica replies, still removing her clothes.

Your ears hear her shirt hit the floor. You turn a deeper shade of red.

"Get Chica's costume."

Blindly, you shimmy around the presumably topless Chica to reach the wardrobe. Peaking your eyes open so you can grab the wobbly handles and pull the stiff doors open. A gold and copper hue surrounded by a multitude of coloured feathers springs out at you. "W-Which one's the top?" You shout over your shoulder feeling the burning embarrassment on your face.

"Gold straps," Chica answers as there is a soft thump of another item of clothing hitting the floor.

The top (which you can barely find the strap of) is ridiculously tangled. It takes several moments of trying to solve this almost Professor Layton-style puzzle before the item it free. "Here." You say sharply, holding out the bikini-like top for Chica to grab.

You hear a giggle as she takes the top from you. "It's not funny." You snap with a slight sulk and attempt to make sense of the feathered bottoms.

"Get decent already!" You demand, thrusting the pants at her with a stifled laugh.

Chica relieves you of the bottoms and then says, "Ready!...I think."

You turn to see her in a bikini-like outfit. The gold straps that criss-cross her chest sparkle with scattered glitter woven into the fabric with metallic copper covering the necessary parts. The bottoms were exactly the same though a thick band of gold stretched across her wide hips. Tall feathers stood up to her shoulders in an array of rainbow colours much like a peacocks. "What do you think?" She asked sheepishly though she strikes a confident pose.

"I think your feathers are tucked into your bottoms," You observe, sending Chica into a spin as she tries to spot which ones are stuck. Gently you reach out and stop her spinning. "Let me help," You sigh, pulling out the trapped feathers.

"Oh this always happen," She sighs back, "Usually Bonnie or Mr. Foxy helps me out."

Just barely you stop yourself from shuddering as you pull out the long feathers. Taking a step back with hands on your hips, you properly admire her costume. "It's certainly very dramatic," You smile, "But won't the feathers catch fire easily? I'm surprised they haven't before now."

"They have," Chica waves her hand dismissively, chuckling at the shocked look on your face, "Usually I is careful but sometimes fire jumps onto them. Is no big deal."

As she talks, you notice a large, vivid scar across her abdomen. Wisely, you say nothing about it. "Now for make-ups," She continues excitedly, attempting to locate the bottles on the dresser. "You can put foundation on Chica but Chica does not trust you to put on eyeshadows and mascara."

Placing the foundation bottle and sponges in your hands, Chica sits down on a squat stool that was hidden under the dresser. "Put on thickly please," She instructs, lifting up her face so you can cover it in foundation easily. You oblige, not feeling too confident abou putting make up on someone else.

"Is that okay?" You ask after covering her face in lots of layers.

"Perfect. Now put some on my tummy." She leans back slightly to let you see it properly.

"On the s-mark?"

"Mhm."

Quietly, you dab at the scar-it obviously needs several layers and you voice that to Chica.

"Yeah that's normal for it." She nods, "I got it from a two more operation."

"A what?" You ask.

"Two more operation."

Confused, you stop to take a minute to think about what on earth she could mean. "Two more…" You repeat quietly before it clicks, "You mean a tumor?"

"Yes!" Chica says in realisation, "That is it. Woops. Is no wonder people get confused by what I mean." She gives a half embarrassed smile. "But I had a tumor"-She stresses the correct pronunciation-"in my stomach. Then I grew one in my test teens." -You assume she means intestines.-"And I got very poorly. I had medicine to make my hair fall out and felt miserable and slept a lot. But…it still got to my brain."

Chica gives a grimace at the memory as you continue to dab foundation on. "After lots of medicine the tumors shrank and Doctor got them out. Though I didn't have much of a stomach or test teens anymore."

"So what did they do?" You ask with a concerned tone.

"They made me a new stomach and test teens of course," She says gleefully, "Now I just have a cool scar on my tummy and head." Chica points to the random tuft of hair that stuck out of place constantly.

"It is a cool scar," You compliment to which Chica gives a cute smile. "But you'd better get the rest of your make up on. The show will be starting soon."

"Oh but I do enjoy talking to you Newbie," She sighs, moving to apply the rest of her make up. "Will you get my torches for me? They are stored behind the entrance way curtains next to Mr. Fazbear's dressing room. You can't miss them. They're just big sticks."

With a nod, you push aside the curtains of the dressing room to exit. Across the room, a thin slit is twitching in the opposite dressing room. A pair of staring yellow eyes watch you from the faintly lit room. Making a noise that was somewhere between disgust and a growl, you ignore the watcher and head to the curtains as instructed. You look for the torches in the dim light and hope that they are near so you can just grab them. Unfortunately they are not. They seem to almost mock you from across the space. Nervously you proceed to step along the barely visible path among the rest of the clutter that dominates the area. A couple of times your body accidentally knocks something unseen and you freeze with the hope that the sound of something smashing does not follow. One time that happens. You pretend not to have heard it. With several near tumbles and trips you finally reach the items you need. It takes some stretching and reaching before they finally are in your grasp. Turning around, you let out a whine about having to return through the hazard-filled area. Suddenly, you freeze at an unwelcome yet familiar sound. Ragged breathing from an open mouth creeps its way through the darkness. Your eyes widen. The sound comes closer to the gap where you entered. A shadow creeps across the open curtain. Your heart seems to stop with anticipation. It's almost like he's thinking of coming in after you. You can't run through here without falling after all. You'd be easy prey.

When all sounds and sights seem to have gone after several long minutes have passed, you tentatively proceed back. Once at the gap you pull it across and come face to face with Foxy. 'Had he been waiting for me the entire time?' You think jumping back with a fist raised slightly.

"Harr, harr, I be sorry whelp," Foxy apologises with a sheepish grin (or as close as his mangled face could manage), "All I be seeming to do is scare yeh."

You say nothing.

"And I guess that I be sorry for scaring you last night too…sometimes I get a wee bit restless at night so I-"

"Stop." You say forcefully, a sudden anger rising in you.

Foxy seems taken aback, his mouth hanging open mid-explanation. There seems upset in his old yet young face yet you continue.

"First you creep me out when I first got here-mumbling and watching me from the shadows," You begin ranting.

"But I-" The ragged man attempts to speak.

"No! You listen!" You demand and continue, "You were outside my tent all last night and now you're hanging about here-not making it clear that you wanted to speak to me. Not trying to catch my attention-instead you jump out at me full of these bullshit apologise rather than stopping being a creepy jerk!"

"I just be-" Foxy attempts again.

"If you think I am going to put up with this for four more nights you've got another thing coming!" You finish with a threatening glare.

"I just be…I-just-be," Foxy repeats, his voice growing more and more distressed as he tries to grasp onto his explanations.

A part of you felt sorry for him yet you stood firm.

"I-just-be…" He continued to say, the distress growing more and bringing twitches with it.

Now you begin to worry and take a step back, raising your almost shaking hands. "Look, dude, I'm sorry I lost my temper," You hastily apologise, a sense of dread growing in your stomach, "I just had a rough night and it's a strange place and you just spooked me."

The dishevelled man is quiet now. This is even more worrying. He is staring both at you and through you at the same time. His lips scarcely move as he whispers something. The skin prickles on the back of your neck as you strain to hear it. "Not my fault…didn't do it…," You catch his voice, but you don't think he's talking about the incident that just happened. "Didn't do it…wasn't me…"

Foxy's eyes focus on you now. The yellow circles have a dangerous glint to them and his tics seem to be becoming increasingly frequent.

"Never accept me," He growled loudly and you realise a moment too late that his hooked hand is raised to strike.

With a loud scream you throw out your arms to block the blow. The a yellow haired, feathered blur knocks into him so that Foxy is away from you. Chica is cupping Foxy's face with both hands. Her face is now covered with heavy and dramatic gold and black make up with huge false eyelashes. "Please Mr. Foxy," She speaks in a hushed tone, "Not this. Not now."

The much taller man seems frozen in shock. His entire body is trembling with the desire to lash out fighting with the need to not harm his friend. Meanwhile, Chica is holding his gaze without flinching. "Come back to me now," She gently pleads.

Reluctantly, Foxy arm drops and even he seems to sag too. "I-I not be feelin' right," He pants for breath as he calms.

"Hush now," Chica consoles him, brushing the hair from his face much like a mother would, "You should go rest up."

With a slow nod, Foxy allows himself to be escorted to his dark dressing room. You hear Chica lay him down and encourage him to rest before she re-emerges. A worried look is upon her face. "Is he-?" You dare to ask but stop at the cold glare she gives you.

"Mr. Foxy has been through a lot, Newbie," She says as quietly and as harshly as she can, "Acting like that makes him worse. He cannot help it. He's ill."

You flinch at her disappointment in you.

To make things worse, Frederick emerges through the opening. "Are we all okay?" He asks amiably before looking at the two of you. "What happened?"

"Ask Newbie," Huffs Chica, approaching you and snatching her torches from your hand and storming into her own dressing room.

You feel Frederick's gaze upon you and barely dare to meet his eyes. Upon his moustached face is a look of irritation and anger. "You'd better come into my dressing room and we'll have a talk." He says, indicating to his dressing room.


End file.
